<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Bring out your dead by Shadowmun</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27133834">Bring out your dead</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowmun/pseuds/Shadowmun'>Shadowmun</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:36:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>671</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27133834</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowmun/pseuds/Shadowmun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Nile has a very difficult thing to do.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Bring out your dead</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>rather drastic depiction of the results of violence, if that's a triggger, please don't.<br/>Not sure, if one-shot or follow up. Let me know, what you think.<br/>Non-native, not betaread, please criticize away.</p><p> </p><p>Title from Monty Python.... Obviously.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was the hardest thing, she ever needed to do. Harder even than walking her mom to the grave, her father had been placed in. Harder than leaving for the military, harder than facing the strange look in her peer’s eyes, when they noticed something off after her first death.</p><p> </p><p>“Come on…”, James Copley whispered softly, encouragingly. “We need to know, if it’s her.”</p><p> </p><p>Nile nodded in agreement, biting her lips and clenching her hands. “Yeah, yeah… I know.” With that, she moved forward, right through the door of the police morgue. A technician turned around, when she entered, looking more than slightly confused. “Are you…” he started, questioning their presence here, but Copley interrupted curtly.</p><p> </p><p>“None of your business, ok?” Of course, he knew, it looked rather strange, that two black people would come to identify one very, very white female body, but he would do the paperwork later, deflecting any suspicions. It was still easier than getting hold of the guys, who, even if they already knew, would haven taken at least several hours to get here.</p><p> </p><p>Nile didn’t say a thing, in fear her voice might break, for then, she wouldn’t be able to stop the weeping that already built up deep in her chest. Instead she followed the technician to the next, very clinical room, where a single body was placed on a metal table, covered with some sheet. Copley was right next to her, holding her arm and supporting her, in case her knees might give way.</p><p> </p><p>The technician gave them a last dirtily suspicious gaze, before he pulled back the sheet and exposed the head of a dark-haired body, who had taken a very serious beating. Several small cuts covered the swollen face and the left side was severely disfigured by the broken bones beneath. At first, it was hard to say, if the body was even female. Nile bit back all emotion, steeling her face against the onslaught of emotion and studied all the little details to find out, if or if not, this was the definite end of one infamous Andromache the Scythian.</p><p> </p><p>Her obviously upset demeanor finally convinced the technician, she was really someone close and not only here for the thrill and so he suggested, somewhat apologetic: “We could have a look at her things, if this helps… Most people… prefer… not to stay too long.” But Nile shook her head. There was very little of her own, Andromache carried with her, especially when on a job. She would do this the hard way or not at all. So instead, she made the technician pull back the rest of the sheet to study parts of the body that weren’t as badly beaten up as the poor woman’s face.</p><p> </p><p>Little details floated to the surface of her conscience. Scars on the belly from some medical procedure. Wrong size of well… breasts. Especially the lack of a very distinct scar on the left, that should have been there. “It’s not her!”, she exclaimed and felt relief do, what grief couldn’t. But Copley caught her by the arm, before she could fall to her knees. “This is not Andy.”</p><p> </p><p>She nodded once, and even stronger a second time. The technician nodded with her, torn between sympathy and disappointment. “I really hope, you do find her. Somewhere else”, he assured her and covered the body with its sheet once more. With some simple gestures he guided them back to the front desk, where they filled out some paperwork and were sent on their way.</p><p> </p><p>Once outside, they fell into an aimless stroll, walking, just to get the thoughts going.</p><p> </p><p>“So… what now…”, Copley asked, and his face was all focused.</p><p> </p><p>“Now… we demolish that whole business, that treats women like this, and we find her. Before she goes the same way.”</p><p> </p><p>Nile smiled, when she said that, though it was far from a happy smile…</p><p> </p><p>Copley looked concerned and begged her to wait, until he could at least contact the other immortals… She didn’t promise.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>